


Playing With Fire

by Gadhar



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But he’s always been stupid, playing with fire, it only fits that he keeps getting burned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heartbreak Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> WHY THE FUCK CAN I ONLY WRITE ANGST??????  
> Gosh, fucking hell. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to come back.”

“Come back?” Lee repeats, hand tightening on his beer. He had a feeling, that this would happen one day.

Again.

That Barney would walk in through some door, calling his name. Wanting him on the team.

Wanting him back. Like there was something to come back to.

“Yeah,” Barney shrugs, leaning on the bar top. “You never said it was permanent, you just wanted time. I think three years is a fair amount of time.” 

_Three long fucking years spent in bumfuck nowhere or rat-infested hotels, waiting,_ Lee thinks. _Fair amount of time my ass._ “Why?”

“Why. What do you mean?”

“Why do you want me back?”

Barney laughs, just a short breath of air.

“I’m serious. Why?”

“Because Lee, you’re...you’re you. The best. The team needs you.”

“The team needs me?” _Bullshit,_ he wants to say. But he never will. Just like he won’t ever say a lot of other things. Because it’s fucking Barney.

“Yeah, of course. And you know...I need you.” Barney’s voice drops a whole volume level on that last part. 

Then there’s the hesitation, the way Barney looks down when he talks because he can’t look Lee in the eyes.

He can’t remember the last time Barney looked him in the eyes. It was probably the first time they met, back in that fucking dive bar. One look and it was as though he wasn't drowning anymore. He hadn’t known, not then, that he was just being dragged into deeper waters.

“No.” Lee stands, kicks back the rest of his beer and turns towards the hall that leads to the rooms in the back; the half of the bar that counts as a shitty motel.

And he’s nearly there, hand on the knob to the door that leads to his own little room of purgatory, when a familiar weight settles on his shoulder. 

One of Barney’s hands. The very one that Lee can remember holding his wrist, gripping his neck, sliding on his hip, smoothing a thumb across his lips.

He can’t turn the knob, just like before there’s that kick in his gut, the one that reminds him of the fucking _love_ he has for a man he’s not even sure returns the sentiment. But it’s that love that keeps him from doing what he wants, doing what he _knows_ he should do.

But he’s always been stupid, playing with fire, it only fits that he keeps getting burned.

Barney turns him around, crowds him against the door. His hands settles on Lee’s hips, like they always have, fitting perfectly. 

And like it’s from memory Barney tilts his head, just as he’s always done, and presses his lips to Lee’s.

And Lee lets him do it. Let’s that stupid, infatuated part of him kiss Barney back; lets Barney’s lips move across his cheek and down his neck; lets Barney turn the knob and walk him in the room, push him onto the bed.

Just like fucking memory. 

Just like all the others times, he’s doing the shit he knows he shouldn’t. The shit that only ever leaves him broken, trying to duct tape pieces back together even though he’s already lost far too many to even make something whole anymore.

Playing with fire, just like always, and loving it while it burns.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s always the after. That’s usually what really hurts, usually when he feels like there’s a fucking hole in his chest; growing, suffocating, and destroying everything.

It’s like his heart and body are finally catching up to what his brain’s always been telling him. _Don’t fucking mess with that boy._ And then he fucking does, like he and Barney are stupid hormonal teenagers. And this is where it gets him, shaking on the edge of a bed, refusing to fucking cry, and trying to stop the fucking gasping half _sobs_ because he shouldn’t be doing this shit.

He’s tougher than this. Has to be.

But that’s not really the reason, it never has been, not this time or any of the others. He just wants to be quiet enough so that Barney doesn't wake up—and ain’t that some fucked up reasoning? Let Barney sleep because he needs it, but he can fall apart only two feet away. Yeah, no problem. 

It sure as hell is a lot easier than having to deal with any questions, any concern, any of the fucking _acting._

Lee spends a lot of time thinking about how everything changed. Too much time, really. But there’s not a whole lot else to do, after the missions, the ops, he doesn’t come home to anything or anyone. 

He doesn't even come _home._

And despite it all, he has yet to squash the part of himself that clings to the hope that what he has with Barney–-what he _had_ before it got fucked up–-is actually real and not some trick. Trick of mind, trick by Barney. 

Lee sucks in a breath, fails at holding back the noise that works its way out of his throat, and feels the bed shift.

It’s brief, until the springs start creaking and he can hear Barney’s breath—heavy and lacking any rhythm—seemingly creeping up on him. 

The warm body against his back makes him cold, and there’s nothing comforting or safe about the embrace.

“Lee, you’re freezing.”

_Understatement._

“Hey, Lee. You there?”

A thumb grazes his cheek, catches on the stubble and does it again. Lee cracks at the thought that he can remember Barney doing that same thing, when they’d lean against their bikes and stare at the stars, Barney's arm around his shoulders. 

The thumb goes on and on, eventually smoothing right under his eyes, stopping. 

_“Jesus, Lee.”_

Another crack.

Lee lets his head drop, holding it in his hands and trying stop—stop sitting here falling apart like a freaking loser. “It's nothing.” And he’ll pretend that came out a lot stronger than it really did. 

“Fucking hell, Lee. Really? Come on. Silence speaks when words can’t.”

“Don’t fucking quote at me.” 

“Fine. Then how about you tell me what the hell is going on? For once, Lee, please. You’re always fighting me, fighting _this,_ and you never say a damn thing.”

“This?” Lee finds himself laughing, shoulders shaking against Barney’s hold. He’s glad they’re sitting like this, so he doesn't have to look at Barney’s face and Barney doesn't have to see him losing it. “I don't even know what this is.”

“You said that before,” Barney says, his tone dark and pained. “You said that same thing _before.”_

“Didn’t think you were listening.”

“I’m _always listening._ I just don't know what to say.”

“You don't know what to say? Really? You show up here, and you what– you expect a fuck? Well you got it. Isn’t that enough? It’s what you came for and now you can go. You don't _have_ to say anything.”

Barney’s arms drop away from him and there’s a silence that follows his retreat, the way the bed shifts as he moves away.

Lee knows he’s leaving, finally. He feels like he should be happy about that, but he’s not. Not one bit.


	3. Chapter 3

Barney can say a lot of things about Lee. He can talk about how much he fucking loves Lee and how well he understands him and knows him and _gets_ him. What he can’t do, can’t _say,_ is that he understands that fucking voice in Lee’s head that manages to turn Lee inside out. 

He doesn't get why that voice has ever held more sway than his own, or even Lee’s own. 

The surprise on Lee’s face, when Barney kneels down in front of him, tips his chin up and makes sure Lee is looking and listening, _hurts._ Like Lee actually thought he’d leave—after what Lee himself, _said._

“Are we really _fucking back to **this**?”_ Barney nearly yells. He regrets it when Lee flinches. It’s like kicking a man when he’s down except Lee looks like he’s fucking _buried._ Barney sighs and tips his head forward, closing his eyes to think. He needs a plan, some way to get through Lee's thick skull without fucking everything up more than it is.

"I love you," He says, surprised at how that's the first thing that comes out. 

Lee scoffs, fixes Barney with cold eyes when his head comes up. "And you've said that before." 

Lee pushes him away, gentle but insistent hands on his shoulders and it's strange. The words Lee says don't match his voice, his actions don't match the anger Barney _knows_ he must be feeling. None of it matches or makes sense, and if that's not a clear indicator that Lee's fucked up right now Barney's not sure what would be.

"The room's paid up for another day. Feel free to stay." Lee pulls on a pair of pants from the floor, grabs a jacket off the hilt of a knife sticking in the wall. And then he pulls the knife out, slips on a pair of boots and slides the knife into one of them.

"So you're gonna run? Again?"

"YOU RAN FIRST!" Lee screams, whirling around to face Barney. 

Barney takes a step back, Lee matching that step as he clenches his fists, keeping them at his side. 

"You ran first," Lee says again, nearly whispering. "You can't have it both ways, Barney. You push me away and then come here asking me back? It doesn't work. That doesn't _work._ I let you—God, I let you come here and kiss me, hold me, and—you make me believe we're together. Like we have something. And you're just gonna walk away! Like you always do. Why? _Why do you keep coming after me?"_

Barney clamps down on his instinct to fight back, to defend himself and deny. "I know."

The confession throws Lee of kilter and the Brit falls back, the anger melting off his face. 

"I _know,_ Lee. I'll admit, when I—I don't think about it. What it does to you or to anyone else. All I can think is I'm protecting you. I'm going to go do something stupid and as long as you're not with me, you won't be hurt. Because I couldn't handle that, getting you hurt or worse. So, I know Lee. I know what I do. But it's different this time."

"Oh, really? Pray tell, what, _exactly,_ is so different? Because, if I remember correctly- and it's quite possible I'm not thinking straight because I'll be the first to admit there's been a lot of sleepless nights and alcohol infused days since then- but if I remember right, the last time you came after me, found me in some fucking dive, we went back to exactly what it was. I believe there was something different- in the beginning. But it's changed. _You've_ changed. I've changed. _It's different._ And we went back to that.

"I'm not what you want Barney, I'm not ever going to be. And I thought I could do it, could just be a warm body next to you when you needed it. But I can't. I can't. So please, stop coming after me. Stop finding me. Stop dragging me back."

"That really what you think?" Barney asks softly, nodding his head. "Is that _really_ what you think?" 

"It's not what I think. It's what I know."

"Know, huh?"

"Yes, _know._ I _know_ I can't be a fucking whore for you. I _KNOW_ I can't think straight on a mission because all I can think about is you and what we'll never be. I _know_ I can't bear to keep listening to you while you lie to my face."

"Then you're fucking STUPID! Jesus Lee, I wouldn't be here if that were true, any of it. And I know you fucking know that! Because...God Lee...because if you honest to God believe that I'm here for someone to _fuck_...No. Just _NO._ Just stop! Stop listening to whatever fucking voice is your head telling you this is bullshit. That I'm lying. That you're not worth it!"

"BUT I'M NOT!" Lee yells, voice overpowering Barney's. "I'm not worth it. Don't lie to me, I know you think it too." 

"What?" Barney falls back a step, every thought in his head having just been blown to hell. His knees feel weak under him, ready to collapse and he keeps taking steps back until he's sitting on the bed, shaking his head. "What?"

That doesn't...that doesn't make sense. Why would Lee..."What?"

"Is that all you can say? 'What?' Like you don't know or something. Or is it just hard for you? Knowing I know? Knowing that you're not fooling me anymore?" Lee steps in front of him, leans down until he's in Barney's face with a sick smile—something twisted and vile. "It must kill your ego to know I'm onto to your game, huh?"

Barney stills, lets Lee's words force their way through the fog of anger that's clouded his mind. When he looks at Lee's mouth—sees those lips still in that venomous smile—

"It's hard to hear, isn't it? To have that fantasy world you live in crushed."

Barney punches him in the face.


	4. Chapter 4

Lee blinks up at the ceiling, watches as it slowly combines into one image, blurring into a brown mass before straightening into solid lines again.

The whole left side of his face hurts and his lip feels puffy and tender.

Then there's his head, which is just a massive ball of pain.

Lee sits up slowly, feeling tired as he sees more of the trashy hotel he rented.

Something lands in his lap, cold and heavy.

Frozen peas.

Lee looks over, sees Barney sitting against the wall, one leg stretched out in front, the other leg bent. He's got a lit cigar dangling from the hand resting on his knee.

Lee crawls his way over, takes the place next to Barney, holding the peas to his mouth.

They don't say anything and Lee tries not to think about anything, not until he has too.

"How much of that was real?" Barney's voice rumbles out after awhile, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Lee leans his head back, makes a noise at the stiffness of his neck and the ache of his muscles. "I don't know. Some of it. All of it." He sees Barney nod out of the corner of his eye, stubbing his cigar out on the floor.

"I'm gonna tell you something, okay? Something I ain't ever told anybody. I don't want you to say anything. Or feel anything. I don't want any pity. I just want you to listen. Actually _listen._ Can you do that?"

"Long as you don't speak too loud."

Barney huffs a laugh, sobering up real quick, his face relaxing into a blank expression.

"I went after this guy once, real psycho, killed dozens of people. I was on his trail for two years, but I couldn't quite catch 'im. Anyway, one day, he's in this building, a warehouse or something. Has 28 hostages from some bus. I went in alone. Found the guy. He had leaked gasoline all over the place. I was convinced the hostages weren't there, and...push came to shove, we fought and I knocked him out. 'Course, he lit the place up before that.

"I got him out, cheated death again. I'm standing outside when they tell me they found some bodies. Nearly thirty of them. And they were all dead."

"Shit."

"I was stupid, went in by myself. But, what would have happened if I brought someone else, hmm? Probably would've died along with the rest, right?"

Lee makes a noise—denial, disbelief, anger—he's not sure. And Barney just keeps talking, completely ignoring him.

"And it would've been a friend too, someone close. Being near me...it's death, Lee."

"Barney-"

"Shut up. It is death. _This job_ is death. And I get it, I'm not actually to blame, the job isn't all I am, I know that's what you're gonna say. And you'll say it's your choice, I know. I fight it every day Lee, the guilt. Lying, trying to make myself realize it's not all my fault. I'm not nearly that powerful but...it's hard. I've gotten by pushing people away, not feeling pain. But I wasn't living."

Barney pauses, raising his hand to his lips in vain. He drops the hand and leans back, closing his eyes.

Lee sucks in a breath, letting the peas fall from his grip.

"I don't want to just get by anymore. And I see you doing the same damn thing I was. I don't like it, Lee. I messed up before, brought you close when I needed it, pushed you away when I could live without it. I was selfish, never thought....never thought about what it was doing to you. Because..."

"You didn't know."

Barney shakes his head. "I'm a blind, stupid, regressed fuck, Lee. But I knew you cared, I didn't know it was...I'm so fucking _blind,_ Lee."

Lee shifts, bringing up his knees so he can lean forward. "So you fight ego-maniacal guilt and I battle overpowering self-deprecation."

"Don't forget the suicidal tendencies on both our parts."

Lee laughs. "Yeah. God, we're a fucked up pair."

Barney's head tips forward, covering a smile with his hand. And in that simple motion Lee can see so many years of smiles and laughs, so many farewells and so much pain.

"This is real, Lee. It always has been. But I'm not gonna let it get away from me again. I'm not taking it for granted. _It's real._ "

"I'll try to remember that."

Lee reaches his hand out into the space between him and Barney. And Barney's hand slips into his, squeezing tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the interested/curious the [playlist](http://8tracks.com/gadhar/playing-with-fire) of inspiration for this song. Also an excuse to actually use my 8track account.


End file.
